


The Waterfall

by happy_birthday_diane_use_a_pretty_font



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 05:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19056292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy_birthday_diane_use_a_pretty_font/pseuds/happy_birthday_diane_use_a_pretty_font
Summary: Set in Archer: 1999. Lonely Krieger visits the world's loneliest courtesan.





	The Waterfall

**Author's Note:**

> So I theorize that Ray has long hair that they don't have the budget/balls to animate (like in his geisha outfit....no way that shit was a wig). Tried to keep tech to a minimum since only one episode has been released so far. Enjoy

Ray's routine was different every night, technically, but the variations were always the same.

Every night, after dinner, when the conversation (read: entertaining squabbles between Archer and Lana, Archer and his mother, Archer and anyone, really) died down, Ray retreated to his room. He dimmed the numerous lamps and chandeliers in favor of several synthetic-flame, scented candles, spread out on the coffee table, where he sat, poured himself some fresh tea, and began his work for the night. 

As a courtesan, it was expected of him to be proficient in sixty four arts. Some of them came naturally to him, like drawing, reading, or the art of making a bed, but others required more rigorous practice.

Tonight, he tied his hair into a tight bun, moved the couch to the corner of the room, and set down his little hologram projector. It was time to practice his dancing. 

The life-sized hologram was of little help, pausing and jittering and glitching at regular intervals (Seamus's titanium walls were not conducive to good reception) but Ray got the gist. He moved in time with the hologram, more or less, slightly off from the music, but that was alright. He had all night to practice, and intended on doing just that. 

Ray had just paused to sip his tea when he heard a clanging knock against his door. He picked up his tablet and checked the camera. It was just Krieger, looking shifty and annoyed, but not urgent. 

Ray shut the projector, putting the music and light to a sudden stop, and threw on his blue kimono.

"What do you want, Krieger?" he said through the intercom.

Krieger looked around confusedly.

"Hello?"

He gestured helplessly.

"Hit the black button."

Krieger looked around.

"On the left.  _ My _ left. Oh, my God." He pressed a button, and the hatch opened. "Just come up!"

Ray had just put the couch back into place when Krieger ascended the ladder and closed the hatch behind him.

"What do you want?" Ray repeated. Ordinarily, he wouldn't be so short, but he'd caught sight of his reflection and noticed a curl had escaped his bun, tickling his hairline.

"Ah…" Krieger had a strange look on his face.

"C'mon. People talk, y'know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, people might wonder what you're doing, visiting a lady's chambers at this hour, so...scantily clad." He looked Krieger up and down, pausing in the middle: the medic was wearing a white tank top and grey sweatpants that left nothing to the imagination.

"I was just wondering if, ah…There's no good way to say this."

"Then say it poorly."

"I'm, ah, interested in your services, as it were…" He watched the realization hit Ray, making his eyebrows raise and eyes widen.

"My  _ services?" _

"Well, one in particular."

"No way." He sat down on a cushion and poured himself some more tea. "No damn way."

"Why not?"

"It's my prerogative to say yes or no to whoever I want. And I'm saying a big ole  _ Hell _ no."

"I'm hygienic," Krieger defended, "If that's what you're worried about."

"I'm sure you've got WD-40 in all your crevices, Gort."

Krieger's face crumpled into a scowl. "Fine!" He turned on his heels and began to exit, grumbling under his breath.

"Oh, honey, come back."

"Nope."

"Krieger, I don't beg for free. Get over here."

With a sigh, the doctor approached once more, getting a few steps closer this time. He and Ray were face-to-waist.

Forcing himself to maintain eye contact, Ray looked up and asked, "What do you want,  _ exactly?" _

"You're really going to make me say it?"

"Well, if you don't, how am I supposed to know what to do?"

Krieger quirked an eyebrow. "So, you're open to the idea?"

"Well, I'm bored and you made me feel bad, so…"

"Is this how you talk to all of your customers?"

"They're  _ clients. _ And, no. Do you want to be treated like a client?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Alright." Ray stood, tied his kimono properly, donned a fake smile, and gestured to the couch. "Have a seat, doctor."

Krieger obeyed, watching as Ray poured a second cup of tea.

"I take mine with honey. Would you like some?"

"Sure."

Ray stirred some in with a tiny spoon. The longer they sipped in silence, the more nervous Krieger grew. 

"I like your table," he said lamely.

"Thank you. I made it, actually."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. Touch it."

Krieger stroked the smooth surface. "Why'd you make a table?"

"I needed one, and carpentry's one of my many projects."

"Oh?"

"I make a lot of stuff. I used to cook all the time, but, y'know, everything up here's dehydrated this and that." He leaned in close to Krieger, exposing his long neck. "I made this perfume."

Krieger resembled a deer in the headlights, so Ray put a hand on his cheek and guided him closer. 

"Can you guess what it's made of?"

Krieger inhaled the scent. "Flowers."

"You can do better than that."

He leaned a bit closer and smelled again. "Cherry blossoms?"

"See, I knew you'd get it. Doesn't it make you wanna lay out in the sun, under a tree…?"

"It makes me want to kiss you."

Ray blinked. "Oh!"

"Sorry." His eyes were darting about the room.

"Don't be! Aw, honey, kiss me if you want to."

"I don't know where to start."

"It's been awhile for you, huh?"

Krieger nodded. "That's why I came here."

"Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart." He shifted so he was closer to Krieger. "I'll tell you everything you need to know."

"Okay…"

"Why don't you put your hands behind my head?"

Krieger nodded, setting down his tea, and gingerly placing his hands upon Ray's neck.

"You can look into my eyes, honey."

Krieger nodded again and obeyed. He started to speak, but faltered.

"What is it, honey?"

"Why do you keep your hair up?"

"I like it. Don't you?"

"I'll admit, I've wondered what it would look like loose."

"Well, you're about to find out." Ray reached up and plucked out the little comb that held the bun in place. Blonde hair came cascading down, releasing a flowery scent.

"You perfume your hair, too?" Krieger asked. His voice was a bit more gruff than it had been before. 

"Applying perfume to the hair and body is an art in itself. Did you know that?"

"No," he whispered, absentmindedly massaging Ray's head, relishing the silky hair tangling in his fingers.

"Pull me closer."

Krieger did so, until their lips were almost touching.

"Should I kiss you, now?"

Ray rested a hand on the doctor's chest. "If you want to. I want you to."

Krieger pulled him in, a bit too hard at first, and kissed Ray enthusiastically. Smiling, Ray returned the same excited energy, wrapping his arms around Krieger's neck. His beard had a clean scent, like tea tree oil. Ray never realized Krieger bothered with maintaining it; he was impressed.

"Was that okay?"

"Yeah, honey. Did you like it?"

Krieger glanced down, so Ray followed his gaze. His eyes widened.

"Well, someone's a grower!"

The medic chuckled nervously. 

"What're we going to do about this?" Ray murmured, ghosting a palm over the bulge.

"I actually had an idea…Is that okay?"

"Yes, God, my mind's a'racin'! I'm gonna need you to narrow it down."

"It might be beyond your, uh…"

"Capabilities?"

"Boundaries."

Ray smiled incredulously. "Honey, my boundaries are with my gag reflex."

"In your throat?"

"Nonexistent."

"Oh. Well, I, uh…"

"Nothing you say is gonna phase me."

"Could you just…use me?"

Ray blinked. "Elaborate, please?"

"Just be completely selfish. I want to watch you…enjoy yourself."

"You know…I'm breaking my seductive-stranger character here, but I gotta say, Krieger, I didn't have you pegged as this submissive."

"Why not?"

"You're a snappy, grammar-obsessed, constantly-correcting-everybody control freak."

"Oh."

"Yeah, you can be kind of an asshole." He was smirking. "This is gonna be fun."

 

They debated cuffs, a blindfold, or a gag, but in the end, decided to simply slap a cockring on Krieger; he claimed he could last as long as Ray needed, but he'd heard that one before.

Krieger was sitting on the couch, while Ray sat on his lap, facing away, riding his dick. While Krieger would've liked to see Ray's face, he was grateful that Ray couldn't see his - he was biting his lip, holding back moans, mostly failing. The sight of Ray's hair bouncing with his movements was driving Krieger crazy. 

Ray, meanwhile, was working up quite a sweat. He was used to putting on a delicately balanced show, one where his clients were exceptional lovers, yet he couldn't be too eager, too improper, enjoy it too much. He especially couldn't suggest things that would benefit himself, and himself alone; all positions and accoutrements were for the pleasure of his clients. 

This, though, was much different. 

To Ray's surprise, Krieger had a decent-sized dick, so there was more than enough to work with. With the cock ring, he'd be harder for longer, so Ray decided on one of his favorite positions, one that clients never wanted to do. At this angle, Krieger was deep inside of him, and the heat was building up. 

The only imperfections were the fact that it was Krieger, and his loose hair was constantly getting in the way. Although, maybe the latter wasn't so bad; when he flicked his head, flipping some hair over his shoulder, he heard Krieger growl.

Ray felt a hesitant touch upon his back, and slowed down. 

"Everything alright back there?"

"Yup…"

"Is there something you wanna say?"

"Can I rub your back?"

Ray smirked. "Sure."

It felt nice, the warm hands against his sweat-slick back, but Ray had a better idea. He paused, sat up straight, and shook his head so that his hair flowed down his back instead of in his face. At the same time, he stopped moving around Krieger's cock.

The medic groaned, and Ray felt his open palms become fists.

"Grab on."

Hesitation, and Krieger's hands drifted up to Ray's shoulders.

"You know what I meant."

"It seems to good to be true."

"Grab on, honey, it's ok."

Krieger gently ran a hand through the blonde hair. Ray heard him lean in, inhale the perfumed scent, and abruptly grab it by the ends. 

"You can pull, if you - "

Krieger tugged Ray in so their bodies were pressed together. The pain and surprise made Ray gasp, but his indignation didn't last: Krieger maintained a firm grip on his hair, and began sucking on Ray's neck. His other hand was stroking Ray's body, up his hard chest, and started toying with Ray's nipple.

Ray bit back a curse, before remembering it was just Krieger. 

"Shit," he said. "You know your way around, huh?"

"Mm-hmm." There was a wet sound, and his mouth separated from Ray's neck. "I think I've changed my mind."

"About what?"

"I kind of really want to fuck your brains out."

Ray shook his hair loose of Krieger's grasp, and turned so he was straddling the man. 

"Kiss me, again."

It was as good as their first kiss, though rather wetter, this time. Ray used one of his old tricks: when Krieger's tongue entered his mouth, he sucked on it.

Ray broke the kiss to say, "Carry me to bed?" 

The medic smirked, kissed Ray again, and carried him across the room with little effort. Ray's legs remained wrapped around Krieger's waist the whole way. When Ray started to roll over, Krieger stopped him.

"I wanna watch your face," he growled. 

The animalistic manner in which he fucked Ray was quite a surprise, considering he was as far from being an animal as someone could possibly be. Maybe he really was more human than robot, Ray thought, though he didn't really care either way. 

"You wanna know something?" Krieger asked, panting in Ray's ear. 

The courtesan only whimpered. 

"All those times I'm…what was the word you used, short? Snappy?"

"Sounds right."

"Yeah, well. This is what I'm thinking about."

"Oh, you're so full of shit."

"Nope. You have no idea how long I've wanted to pull this hair."

Ray had seldom been more flattered. "Really?"

"Obviously. You're always running around, with your kimonos and your silk sweatpants…Why do you hide all this?" He ran a hand along Ray's abs. 

"Hide what?"

"Your muscles."

Ray was dizzyingly close to orgasm, and his tongue was loose, his inhibitions at rock bottom. 

"You wanna see some muscles, honey?"

"Maybe I do!"

Ray pushed Krieger off of him, so the man was on his back. 

"Are you close?"

"Pretty close."

"Perfect." Ray guided Krieger so the doctor's head and shoulders were hanging off the side of the bed. "Do robots get headrushes?"

"I'm not a robot, so I don't know."

"Do  _ you _ get headrushes?"

"Yes."

"Then you're in for a great time." Ray mounted the doctor once again, jacking off as he bounced. Ray came first, creating a mess on Krieger's chest. When he reached down and rubbed the doctor's nipples, he followed suit.

He came with what was nearly a roar, gripping Ray's thighs, dizzy with pleasure. Ray rocked back and forth, working Krieger through the orgasm with encouraging whispers. 

"How was that?" Ray asked, laying against Krieger's chest. His hair was sticking to the man's skin. 

"Really, really great. Like, seriously, just…wow."

"Now, you better quit being so tense all the time."

"I don't think I could tense anything right now if my life depended on it." 

Smiling with pride, Ray got out some towelettes and wiped them each down, disposing of them in the garbage chute. They hadn't bothered with a prophylactic - while synthetic humans were susceptible to some human STDs, Krieger pulled his MediChart up on Ray's tablet to prove he was free of disease. Ray offered to show Krieger his chart, too, but the doctor was familiar with his medical history, and declined. 

"So…" Krieger began awkwardly.

"What is it, honey?"

"What do I, uh…owe you?"

Ray considered this for a moment. "It's on the house."

"Are you sure? That's a pretty steep friends-and-colleagues discount."

"Usually, it's an upcharge, but yeah. I'm sure." He kissed Krieger's nose.

For the first time since the encounter began, Krieger smiled.

 

The next morning, Ray almost fell flat on his face on his way to the kitchen. On the floor, a few feet away from his ladder, was a round, white box.

"What the shit?" he muttered, kneeling and opening it. 

Inside was a round cake, inexpertly frosted with white buttercream. Then, Ray noticed the note on the inside of the box.

 

_ I would be remiss if I didn't tip you. _


End file.
